Suspense.

You've lost hours of my life, I wonder, how will I be remembered?

I think of what Engels said when Karl Marx dies, whether his death,

mankind is shorter by ahead. I wonder what will be said of me it is through his books that Marx is remembered

while I I have been a man of action not of words so will I be forgotten or worse still will I be remembered only in the writings of

where you are journalists who already have distorted my motives and

minimize my importance in the revolutionary movement.

Especially in regard to the action I undertook in St.

Battle's Cathedral on the eve of a new year.

It is only all the Carolka they write about vastly exaggerating the role she plays.

Olka Karolka, why she was a political ignoramus, a victim of every bourgeois superstition she was nothing

as hero a puppet controlled by me.

Olga believed that she was in love with. I encouraged her in that illusion.

She might prove valuable to me since she worked with a servant in the household of Prince

Ogare. On Sundays when she was allowed a few hours for herself,

she invariably came to spend the time with me in my room near the university.

Boys. in my room near the university. Boris, it's nearly dark.

Oh, you're leaving?

Make sure the door is left, There is a draft of those stairs.

Is that all you have to say? No, goodbye, nothing.

You're like a stone.

I prefer steel.

...